


KuroDai Week Round 2, Day 1: Tattoo Artist / Florist AU

by jadehqknb



Series: KuroDai Week 2019 Round 2 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Florist Kuroo, Flustered Kuroo, M/M, Tattoo Artist Daichi, disaster kuroo, featuring tanaka, featuring yachi, tattoo artist/florist au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21732931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadehqknb/pseuds/jadehqknb
Summary: “G’mornin’ S’mura, what can I do for ya?” he asked, continuing to wipe his now sweaty palms against his stomach as the tattoo artist came into his view. Did he have to wear such tight shirts? Who are you kidding, you’d be so sad if he covered up such works of art. And Kuroo wasn’t thinking of the phoenix swathed in fire decorating Sawamura’s skin from wrist to shoulder on his right arm or the tribal pattern encircling his enormous bicep on his left. Sawamura’s arms themselves were the works of art; the tattoos were just an added bonus as far as Kuroo was concerned.Sawamura turned, his hand dropping down from extending to delicately touch the soft fuzz of the caterpillar plant back to his side and into the pocket of his jeans. He gave a small grin and a flash of light glinted off the ring adorning his lip. Kuroo licked his, not unfamiliar thoughts of tugging that ring gently with his teeth flooding his mind and heating his cheeks.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Series: KuroDai Week 2019 Round 2 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566376
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95





	KuroDai Week Round 2, Day 1: Tattoo Artist / Florist AU

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for some language and suggestive themes but there’s no sexy times in this one.

“Today’s the day, I’m going to ask him _today_ ,” Kuroo said, his fist pounding into his palm. He stared at himself in the mirror, willing his courage to grow. He was, he absolutely _was going_ to ask Sawamura out. He was eighty percent sure that what had been transpiring between them the past few months had been flirting. Ok, maybe seventy-five percent. It was hard to tell, since Kuroo always managed to stick his foot in his mouth whenever it seemed things were going well. 

Why was he like this? 

He shook his head, his dark fringe swinging back and forth in the reflective glass. Should he get a trim first? Maybe buy a new shirt? He sighed. He was stalling; he knew it, the universe knew it. 

But it was scary, pulling his heart out of the protective case he’d placed it in years ago, vowing to never fall so hard and fast for anyone ever again. And yet, here he was, crushing so hard on the tattoo artist across the street from his flower shop, he was surprised he had any blood left in his body. 

Taking a deep breath, he finished getting ready. If he didn’t get moving he would be late for opening. Arriving to the shop, he took out his keys, unlocked and stepped through the door. He flipped a switch, smiling as a handful of lantern shaded lights sprung to life driving back the shadows and illuminating the room in a warm, yellow glow. A deep breath slid into his lungs as he inhaled the sweet scent of flowers with an undertone of fresh earth. It was invigorating. 

“Good morning my beauties, did everyone sleep well last night?” 

The faint breeze at his back rustled the petals and leaves in a seeming reply and his smile grew. He loved this placed, loved the satisfaction of his plants and flowers growing strong and healthy, loved the tranquility of the presence of a piece of nature all around him in the center of a busy city street. But most of all he loved the sense of accomplishment at providing his patrons with quality custom arrangements, no matter the occasion. 

“Well, let’s get started,” he said, shutting the door and hanging up his coat to replace it with his apron. He pulled his gloves from its pocket, picked up his spray bottle with its mix of water and little nutrient boosters and set about the work of set up. 

He was in the middle of replacing some dirt and compost for a large potted bamboo when the announcer bell over the front door chimed. “Good morning, I’ll be right with you,” he called over his shoulder. 

“No rush, Kuroo, take your time.” 

Kuroo inhaled a sharp breath. 

_Sawamura_. 

He hadn’t expected to see him so soon and felt woefully unprepared. Not that he really had anything to _prepare_ he supposed. It was just a simple matter of opening his mouth, getting his tongue to move properly and push out the words he’d been longing to for weeks on end: _Will you go on a date with me?_

Standing up quickly, he brushed his hands against his apron, wincing at the mess it made. Usually, he didn’t care since it was expected that someone working with plants and dirt all day would, well, be _dirty_ from time to time but this wasn’t just any customer waiting for him. It was Sawamura and he’d wanted to look as nice as possible for him.

“G’mornin’ S’mura, what can I do for ya?” he asked, continuing to wipe his now sweaty palms against his stomach as the tattoo artist came into his view. Did he _have_ to wear such tight shirts? _Who are you kidding, you’d be so sad if he covered up such works of art_ . And Kuroo wasn’t thinking of the phoenix swathed in fire decorating Sawamura’s skin from wrist to shoulder on his right arm or the tribal pattern encircling his enormous bicep on his left. Sawamura’s arms _themselves_ were the works of art; the tattoos were just an added bonus as far as Kuroo was concerned. 

Sawamura turned, his hand dropping down from extending to delicately touch the soft fuzz of the caterpillar plant back to his side and into the pocket of his jeans. He gave a small grin and a flash of light glinted off the ring adorning his lip. Kuroo licked his, not unfamiliar thoughts of tugging that ring gently with his teeth flooding his mind and heating his cheeks.

“Looking for a couple pieces for my new artists. Kinda welcoming gifts,” Sawamura replied, scratching the back of his head and Kuroo’s fingers itched to run over the undercut there. 

Of course. Of course, Sawamura would be the type of boss to welcome his new employees with _flowers._ Kuroo wanted to pinch himself. 

“Could you be any more perfect?” he muttered under his breath as he made his way behind the counter to grab his sketchbook.

“What’s perfect?” Sawamura asked. 

Kuroo could feel the blush overtaking his face as he hastily replied, “Um, I’ll help you find something perfect!”

Sawamura laughed leaning against the counter, the muscles of his forearms flexing with the effort to support his weight and Kuroo’s mouth went dry as he stared. He must have stared too long because the next thing he knew Sawamura was saying, “Kuroo? You ok?” 

“Yes! Fine!” he exclaimed, eyes whipping to Sawamura’s face upon which he found a look of amusement mixed with what most definitely was smugness. He cocked his head to the side inquiringly and smiled. 

Kuroo licked his lips, swallowed the lump in his throat and worked to get a damn grip on himself. “So, gifts for your artists. How many?” He plopped onto his stool and whipped open his sketchbook, pencil in hand ready to jot down notes.

“Two,” Sawamura replied, leaning back slightly, his hands clasped in front of him, the fabric of his t-shirt stretched taut around the circumference of his biceps. Kuroo considered maybe he had an arm kink for all the notice he took of Sawamura’s, who was talking and he really should have been paying more attention to his words than his arms. Again. 

“Guy’s a bit brash but he has a good heart and the gal is timid but capable. Just needs to gain some confidence.”

Kuroo hummed and nodded, scribbling a jumble of sketches and chicken scratch, ideas flowing out in a haphazard manner that most wouldn’t believe actually made sense to Kuroo. 

“You’re not bad,” Sawamura said yanking Kuroo’s attention from the page. 

“Huh?” 

Sawamura tapped against the page, his finger grazing the back of Kuroo’s hand and Kuroo had to work to suppress a shiver just that minimal contact gave him. Kuroo flicked his eyes to where Sawamura’s finger was settled just above the small image on the opposite page of an arrangement he’d done for an intimate wedding a few weeks back. 

Kuroo wondered if he would have any blood left in the rest of his body since it was consistently flooding his face today. “Ah, thanks, but it’s just a sketch, something to help me get a grasp of the design before I start pulling the stems.”

Sawamura nodded, retracting his hand. Kuroo missed the proximity. “Still, it’s good. I like the shading, makes it really pop.” 

“Thanks,” Kuroo replied with a smile. 

They remained in momentary silence, looking at each other, Kuroo’s eyes tracing over the dips and angles of Sawamura’s face. He hadn’t really been this close to him before, their interactions usually occurring in the cafe while feeding their mutual caffeine addictions (tea for Kuroo and coffee for Sawamura) or whenever Sawamura came in for a bouquet here and there. 

Kuroo had recognized Sawamura as handsome from the moment they’d met. His face was symmetrical and balanced, his cheeks giving the barest hint of squish when he grinned and the crinkle of laugh lines at the corner of his eyes indicating a life looked at with joy and appreciation.

Eyes that were a deep chocolate brown, warm and soft. Kuroo’d seen them hard on occasion, like when Sawamura had to break up a fight at the bar they both went to on the odd Friday night here or there that Kuroo was never quite confident enough to approach him at, particularly when he was surrounded by his friends (they looked more than a bit rough around the edges). But this close, Kuroo suddenly realized how _pretty_ Sawamura’s eyes were, flecks of amber unseen from a respectable distance springing out like bits of treasure. 

“Get lost?” Sawamura asked teasingly, reaching out to flick Kuroo’s fringe making him flinch. 

“Ha, yeah, just can’t seem to focus today. Shouldn’t have skipped my tea.”

“Yeah, I wondered if you were ok, but when I came into my shop I saw the lights were on here.”

Kuroo’s heart skipped many beats at the revelation that Sawamura had _worried_ about him just because he hadn’t been at the cafe for his morning steep. 

“Just running a bit late this morning,” Kuroo replied, leaning close to the page he was writing on as if that would actually hide his ever-present blush. He swallowed the thick knot of nerves in his throat, pushing them to join the butterflies fluttering in his (rather empty now that he paid it attention) stomach. This was a perfect opening, more than perfect, it was the door of opportunity blown clean off its hinges. All Kuroo had to do was look up into those soft eyes and say… what?

_Speaking of tea and coffee, I was wondering if you’d like to get some together sometime. You know, not by coincidence._

Yeah, that would work. Now if only he could get his mouth to form the words. 

He didn’t get the chance, Sawamura glancing at his phone and muttering, “Damn, I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Problem?” Kuroo asked, looking up again. The little furrow of Sawamura’s brow and the near pout of his lip was unexpectedly adorable. 

“Not problem, just I have an appointment so I hafta get back.” He stood up, pushing his phone back in his pocket. “I know I wasn’t much help with details but—”

“It’s fine,” Kuroo said quickly, feeling bad that his distracted manner had hindered his process. It wasn’t Sawamura’s fault he couldn’t get a handle on his emotions and act like a damn professional. “Um, I can sketch some ideas and bring them over later? Maybe go over them with you on your lunch break?”

_Make it a date. Take him out to lunch, do it you fool!_

Sawamura smiled. “That sounds great. Just hop on over to the shop at 11:30. I block out an hour at that time so I don’t end up hangry and tattoo a dick on someone or something.” 

Kuroo’s braying laugh came out before he could stop it but he didn’t have time to be mortified, not when Sawamura was laughing too, loud and bright, along with him. 

“See you later Kuroo,” Sawamura said, still chuckling as he exited. 

Kuroo stood motionless staring at the door, his heart pounding. Two openings, two _perfect_ openings, and he’d screwed them both up. 

_Oh well, third time’s the charm, right?_

The rest of the morning sped by as Kuroo dumped all his attention to presenting Sawamura with options. Was it overkill? Probably. Was he being obvious? More than likely. But he wanted to make up for the debacle that was himself that morning and so, well, there he was, walking across the street with four or five options for each employee. 

Definitely overkill. 

When he entered, an announcer over his head bellowed _FRESH MEAT._ That, coupled with a very feminine scream that Kuroo hoped and prayed hadn’t come from him in his shock, startled him hard enough to lose his grip on his sketchbook and pencil, the bound parchment skidding across the ground while the writing utensil bounced into an obscure corner somewhere.

The feminine voice (ok so it wasn’t Kuroo who screamed like that, _thank gods_ ) continued in a rush, “Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry! Are you ok? It’s my first day and I wasn’t prepared… I didn’t realize it was so loud or said that or—”

Another voice, male in cadence and loud bellowed, “Yacchan, everything ok out here?” Kuroo turned his head to the newcomer, a muscled baldy with sharp canines glowering at him. Kuroo didn’t have time to wonder at his lack of a shirt when he was snapping out, “You messin’ with Yacchan? I’ll knock you into next week if ya are!”

Kuroo put up his hands, taking a step back towards the door, really not relishing the idea of half-naked contact with another man that wasn’t Sawamura and this was _really_ not the time to be thinking about that. “No! I just came in and—”

“—it was my fault Tanaka-san! I had the announcer too loud and didn’t know it was set to that and he—” 

The little blonde (Yacchan, he presumed) stopped abruptly again, wide brown eyes meeting Kuroo’s. “Oh my gosh, your book! Here, let me—”

She took off without another word and Kuroo wondered if she were capable of finishing a sentence or if she just always spoke in broken, panicked babbling. 

“What the hell is going on out here?” 

Now _that_ voice Kuroo knew very well. Despite the strain of the exceedingly odd and completely awkward situation he found himself in, the knot of tension in his lower back unraveled as Sawamura came into view, stepping off the stairs leading to his office to glare at the scene.

“Boss, I found this hooligan hassling Yacchan, you want me to kick his ass to the curb?”

“Hooligan? Have you looked in the mirror, who doesn’t wear a shirt in public?” Kuroo snapped. Tired and hungry, his filter was less than perfect. Besides, the guy was being a jerk for no reason. For all he knew, Kuroo could be a customer and he was making Sawamura lose business!

Tanaka-san, as Kuroo now knew him to be, took a step forward, his fist clenched, but Sawamura’s hand on his shoulder pulled him up short. “That’s enough! Tanaka, cool your jets in the back and put your damn shirt back on!” 

“But I was just—”

“Now!” 

Tanaka-san huffed, spun on his heel and pushed through the burnt orange velvet curtain that hid the work station floor from the lobby, which became decidedly more silent with his exit. 

When Kuroo turned back, he found Yacchan standing with a white-knuckled grip on his notebook. “I, uh, here!” she said, thrusting it towards him. After he’d taken it, she bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t find your pencil! I looked everywhere but it’s disappeared.” 

Indeed her knees looked a little scuffed and her skirt slightly wrinkled from her efforts to find one of literally hundreds of the same pencil he had in his shop. He felt bad that she’d worked so hard especially when he had a spare in his pocket. 

“It’s fine,” he said, resisting the urge to pat her head. “I have another, so I’m sorry you bothered.” 

Yacchan whipped up, her back stiff and her eyes wide but before she could speak, Sawamura stepped to her, laying a much gentler hand to her shoulder. The effect was immediate, her body relaxing even as her jaw snapped shut and she turned her attention to the man at her side. 

“Yacchan, what happened?” he asked, soft but firm. 

Poured was really the best way to describe the flow of words following that question. Even having been there, Kuroo got lost a couple of times in the mass of information she was spilling but Sawamura appeared to have no trouble following her, nodding along to her babble. 

“I see, well, first off, let’s get that stupid announcer changed. I _told_ Futa if he did that again I was going to tattoo _loser_ on his forehead.” Sawamura looked up at Kuroo, what appeared to be an embarrassed smile on his face. “Sorry about all this, do you mind waiting for me in my office while I get this sorted out?” 

Kuroo nodded, moving to the stairs which he ascended rapidly. Reaching the upper level, he headed to Sawamura’s office (thankfully labeled ‘World’s Best Boss’ and Kuroo hoped to hear the story of how that ended up on Sawamura’s door) and entered. 

By the time he was settled on the loveseat (why on earth was there a loveseat in Sawamura’s office?) he already knew which arrangements he would be recommending to Sawamura for his newest additions. 

The sound of footsteps on the stairs drew Kuroo’s attention to the door and just like clockwork his heart sped up when Sawamura entered the room. 

“Sorry about all that, Tanaka means well and Yachi tries her best.” He placed his hands behind his head, his face turned up to the ceiling as he took a deep breath and once again Kuroo found himself staring, this time at the bulges that were Sawamura’s biceps. “Sometimes it’s just a big mess.” 

Kuroo shook his head. “Well, one good thing came of it.” He waited for Sawamura to look at him and gave a grin. “It did help me sort out which flowers to recommend for them. That is, assuming I’m correct in my assumption that those were the two you were looking to buy for?” 

Nodding, Sawamura dropped his arms to his sides and then himself on the couch; right next to Kuroo. He leaned in, eyes on the sketchbook. “So, what’s your expert opinion?” he asked. 

But Kuroo’s senses were on overdrive, his brain short-circuiting trying to take in all the new stimulation that having Sawamura so close to him brought. 

Sawamura smelled amazing. Whatever cologne he was wearing, assuming any, made Kuroo’s mouth water and he had to work not to wipe his lips. 

He was warm too, his body heat so surprisingly intense even through his clothes that Kuroo anticipated being a sweaty mess by the time he got out of there. That, or it could have just been his nerves turning on the taps of his pores. 

And he was _solid._

Kuroo had spent plenty of time ogling Sawamura’s build from afar but now, pressed against his shoulder, arm, hip and thigh (god his thighs were massive and Kuroo just wanted to lay his head on them) he knew first hand exactly how sturdily he was constructed and all Kuroo could think about was how much he wished he would use that power to manhandle Kuroo as he saw fit.

Sawamura’s voice penetrated the haze that was Kuroo’s mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? You’re really out of it today.”

Kuroo snapped to attention and took a deep inhale through his nose which was the best worst thing ever since the flood of Sawamura’s scent nearly made him swoon again. “I’m fine. Uh, just haven’t eaten yet. Low blood sugar,” he babbled.

Sawamura clicked his tongue, rolled his eyes and stood up and it was all Kuroo could do to not grab his shirt and yank him back down to his side. “First no tea, now no food,” he muttered, moving to his desk. He picked up his phone and hit a button. “Yacchan? Can you heat up two… no… four of those buns for me, please? Two red bean and two curry. Yeah. Just bring them upstairs. Thanks.” 

Kuroo hastened to speak, “You didn’t have to do that! I can just get—”

“Kuroo, I’m not gonna stand by while someone is so hungry they can’t focus, now just take a breather until we get some food. We’ll go over your sketches in a bit.”

Kuroo snapped his jaw shut, working to keep the squeal that was rising up in his throat from escaping because Sawamura was taking care of him and it was too much for his stupid overworked heart to take. Undoubtedly, this was how Sawamura treated anyone who he perceived incapable of self-care but Kuroo ignored that in favor of pretending, just for a moment, that he specifically was important to Sawamura. 

A few minutes later, there was a tap at the door. “Come in,” Sawamura called, pulling two drinks from a minifridge in the corner. 

Yachi entered with two plates filled with food, having taken it upon herself to add some carrot sticks and—oh god she was too cute—apple bunnies to their meal of curry and red bean paste buns. 

“Thanks, Yacchan, you didn’t have to make it fancy,” Sawamura teased with a grin. 

“It’s not fancy, it’s balanced!” Yachi said, her cheeks tinting a pretty shade of pink. 

“Yeah, I know. Always taking care of everyone. Thanks.” 

She smiled at him but it fell away as she turned to Kuroo, her shyness returning as their eyes met. Kuroo remained seated so as not to overwhelm her with his height again and extended his hand to take the plate from her. “Thanks, Yachi-san, I really appreciate it,” he said with a soft smile that he hoped diminished her apprehension. 

It appeared to work when she gave him a returning smile and bowed lightly. “My pleasure, enjoy,” she said then hurried from the room, shutting the door with a click. 

“Now, eat. Then we’ll talk,” Sawamura insisted. 

Kuroo would have argued but his stomach did the talking for him in the form of a loud gurgle that had Sawamura looking smug again. To quiet it down, Kuroo took a huge bite of one of the buns, a low moan of appreciation sounding before he could stop it. 

“Oh my god, these are delicious,” he mumbled around another bite. 

Sawamura chuckled, taking a bit of his as well. “Thanks, I’ve been working on the recipe, glad to hear it’s a success.”

“You made these?” Kuroo exclaimed after he swallowed his third bite. 

“Yeah, why? Do I look like I can’t cook?” 

“What? No! Sorry, they’re just so… professional tasting?” Kuroo shoved another bite into his mouth if for no other reason than to get himself to shut up. 

“Professional tasting… that’s a new one,” Sawamura chuckled. 

“Hey, it’s a compliment, ok? A poorly worded one, sure, but a compliment,” Kuroo defended. 

“Don’t talk with your mouthful, idiot, you’ll choke.”

Kuroo stuck out his tongue petulantly but didn’t reply further. They ate in companionable silence and when Kuroo was done, he slid back against the couch cushions, letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction. 

“Now that you’re properly nourished maybe we can get some work done,” Sawamura teased, regaining his seat next to Kuroo.

Kuroo felt rather sleepy thanks to his stomach full and the warmth of the room but he roused himself to pay attention, unwilling to further impede upon Sawamura’s goodwill or his time. 

“So, for your charming barbarian, I recommend a small arrangement of Gladiolus, that symbolizes strength of character, faithfulness and honor along with daffodils signifying regard and chivalry.” 

“Chivalry? For Tanaka?” Sawamura asked cocking one eyebrow. 

Kuroo nodded. “I mean, he was only looking out for Yachi.”

Sawamura hummed consideration then nodded. “Ok fair enough. And for Yachi?” 

“Freesia for innocence and thoughtfulness.”

He pointed to the selection, casting a glance to Sawamura’s face, a familiar sense of accomplishment and pleasure washing over him to see the other man smiling as he explained. 

“Sounds great. Can you put those together in some vases and let me know the cost? I’d go back with you to finish the transaction but I have a client coming in five minutes.” 

“No problem, I know where you live,” Kuroo said with a grin, snapping the book closed. 

“Ha! I don’t live here,” Sawamura protested as they stood. 

“Might as well for as much as you’re here.”

“Hey mister, ‘I-work-so-hard-I-forget-to-eat’, that’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Who said they were black? Where did that come from?” Kuroo asked as they headed back downstairs. 

Sawamura shrugged. “No idea, just something my granddad used to say and now I do.”

“So that’s why you always sound like an old man.”

Kuroo winced at the smack to his arm but Sawamura was laughing again so it made the pain easier to bear. “Shut up!” He opened the door for Kuroo, giving a warm smile. “Thanks for coming by, I appreciate it. Sorry again for the trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Kuroo said. He lingered for a moment, working to get up his courage to ask Sawamura out. 

He missed his chance again as someone said, “Excuse me,” then passed through the door between himself and Sawamura. 

“Hey Kita-san, right on time.” Sawamura looked back to Kuroo. “Gimme a call when those are ready and I’ll come get them.”

Kuroo nodded, spun on his heel and headed back across the street. 

“Tomorrow,” he muttered as he walked through the door of his shop, “tomorrow I will definitely ask him.” 

If Kuroo didn’t know any better, he’d say the plants looked disappointed in him.

The next day Kuroo skipped his morning tea once more in favor of doing something completely stupid and making him undoubtedly obvious but subtlely wasn’t working on Sawamura anyway so he might as well go for broke. 

He’d decided to deliver the arrangements to the tattoo parlor but rather than wear his uniform as on the previous day, he went and bought a crisp new red button-down shirt so that when he asked Sawamura on a date after making the delivery he would be helpless to his charm and put-together look. Dark wash jeans never worn to his shop adorned his long legs and he actually polished his black shoes (don’t look at him like that). 

Truth be told, he looked ready to be taking Sawamura on the date he hadn’t even asked him out on yet but it was too late to turn back now. Arrangements in hand, he made his way to the parlor after he’d spied the last of Sawamura’s employees headed home for the night. Sawamura, he knew, was always the last to leave.

He entered, grateful that the announcer had been adjusted to a standard _ding_ rather than the blaring voice of yesterday. 

“Sorry, we’re closed!” Sawamura called from upstairs. 

“Even for flower deliveries?” Kuroo replied. _And hopeless romantics_ he thought a moment after, setting the vases down on the front counter. 

The rumble of footsteps on the stairs signaled Sawamura’s descent to the ground floor and when he arrived, Kuroo didn’t miss the once over he gave him, holding his breath as he waited for his reaction. 

“Woah, got a hot date or something?” he asked, walking to behind the counter. 

_Opener, perfect, opener!_ _Just do it, you fool!_

But the moment passed as Sawamura chuckled, hands stretching out to turn one vase and then the other, open admiration on his face. “Wow, Kuroo, you really know how to pick’em.”

“Oh my god, you did _not_ just go there,” Kuroo groaned and Sawamura gave a shit-eating grin. 

“It’s too easy.” 

“There is nothing easy about swallowing your puns.” 

Sawamura laughed. “So, how much do I owe you?”

Kuroo gave him the total and Sawamura gave him the money. He took the vases, adding cards he’d already prepared and placed the one for Yachi front and center of the counter. 

“I’ll just drop this on Tanaka’s station table. Thanks for bringing them over. Catch you tomorrow at the cafe.” He put action to the words, disappearing behind the workstation room curtain. 

Kuroo fidgeted with his hands, the thumping of his heart seeming loud in the quiet of the room. He had to do this, he _had to_. Even at the risk of rejection, at the risk of losing whatever semblance of friendship he’d gleaned with his fellow shop owner, Kuroo couldn’t contain his feelings anymore. He had to go for it!

When Sawamura returned a minute or two later, he looked surprised to see Kuroo still standing there. “Was there anything else?” he asked. 

_Yes, I’d love to take you out to dinner and then make out with you all night._

This was it, he was going to do it. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while.” His throat constricted making him pause during which he stared into Sawamura’s eyes as he waited patiently for Kuroo to go on. “I was wondering if I could get a tattoo? From you?”

Kuroo blinked. 

What. The. Hell.

Sawamura snorted. “Uh, sure. I mean, you could have just called for an appointment, no need to get all dressed up.” He took up a pen and opened what Kuroo presumed was the appointment book. “Now, let's get you set up so you can get to your date.” 

The tips of Kuroo’s ears were red, he knew they were. “Um, I don’t have a date. Just ya know, breaking in a new shirt.” He cleared his throat again mainly to calm down and went on before Sawamura could say anything else that would send him in a tailspin. “I have time now, if you want.” 

What? Sawamura had _just_ said the shop was closed! Kuroo knew it was, that was why he’d come here at the end of the day for the express purpose of asking Sawamura out to dinner, assuming he accepted.

Bracing himself for the inevitable laughter, Kuroo’s stomach swooped with a mix of pleasure and fear when Sawamura snapped the appointment book shut, pushed away from the desk and said, “Sure. My plans consisted of going on a run with my dogs and then undoing the good of burnt calories with a large pizza.” 

Kuroo found that more endearing than he probably should. He’d yet to meet Sawamura’s dogs, but he’d seen pictures here and there whenever their owner showed them at the coffee and tea shop. “But won’t they miss their run?” he asked.

“Trying to back out already?” Sawamura had a teasing grin on his face. 

“No!” Ok maybe a little. “I would just feel guilty keeping you from your pet parent responsibilities.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Sawamura slapped a palm against Kuroo’s back as he passed him, headed towards the burnt orange curtain. “They’ll be fine. I’ll text my neighbor to please feed and take them out to pee.”

“Seriously, if you need to go home—“

“We help each other out with our fur babies all the time, it’s cool.” He pulled the curtain back, the darkness beyond it about as appealing to Kuroo as an abyss.

“Seriously though,” and Kuroo looked to Sawamura’s face at the shift in his tone, from teasing to… something that made the tightness in Kuroo’s chest squeeze one last time then release, “if you don’t want to it’s fine.” 

He should have backed out. Allowing your crush who you haven’t confessed to, to permanently mark your skin was a bad, bad idea. Plus, Kuroo had only been half serious about getting inked ever. So of course he insisted he wanted to and hurried past the curtain flap. 

A grip and tug on his wrist startled him.

“Let me get the lights,” Sawamura said, “stay here a sec.” 

Kuroo nodded, unsure if Sawamura could even see it. The pressure on his wrist released leaving a faint warm tingling where Sawamura’s thick fingers had encircled it and Kuroo had the very juvenile desire never to wash it again. A few seconds later, there was a click and the room flooded with bright white light, making Kuroo blink rapidly. 

“Sorry it’s a bit harsh, but bright white is better for inking,” Sawamura said returning to Kuroo. 

“No problem, didn’t need my retinas anyway.”

Sawamura smacked his arm with the back of his hand. “Right this way, _sir._ ” He began walking and Kuroo followed, surprised to find six curtains in various colors or patterns hanging in circular arrangements, three to a side of the room creating a center aisle. 

“Keeps the customers more comfortable, especially for more intimate pieces,” Sawamura explained and Kuroo felt his cheeks heating at the word _intimate_. “Artists, too, actually, let’s them focus more.”

“Makes sense,” Kuroo agreed as they reached a black curtain covered in iridescent silver feathers. Sawamura pulled it open and gestured for Kuroo to have a seat on the table. Just as he was seated he looked down to where Sawamura had sat on a rolling stool, opening a sketchbook similar to Kuroo’s on a low side counter 

“So, what were you thinking of getting and where?” 

Kuroo’s palms were sweating, in fact, his whole body felt like one big sweat fest. How could he forget the most important thing, namely, the thing he wanted to get on his skin?

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

He forced his mind to clear and blurted out the first thing that came to him. “Uh, a twisty vine, yeah, like… curling around my thigh.” Way to be obvious. 

Sawamura paused, his expression unreadable as his eyes darted over Kuroo’s face. He opened his mouth, then shut it, then said, “That sounds… great. What kind of vine?”

Kuroo shrugged, sweat beading on his brow. “Oh, ya know, just standard.” What the hell was he even saying? 

Sawamura hummed. “Ok, since this is your first tat, I suggest we start with one section and add more later.” 

Kuroo gave a half-grin. “I’ll defer to your expertise. I didn’t really have a size in mind anyway.” He hadn’t had it in his mind to be doing this at all. 

Sawamura positioned himself at his tool table, pencil in hand. “I’m just gonna draw up a quick sketch first. When the design is to your liking, I’ll draw it on transfer paper then press a test image onto your skin so you can be absolutely certain it’s how you want it.” 

When Kuroo had nodded, Sawamura dropped his focus back to the page in front of him. The soft sound of pencil against paper filled the quiet of their curtained sanctuary and Kuroo’s eyelids back to get heavy. Maybe the leather wasn’t as stiff as he’d previously thought when he first sat down or he was just exhausted from his rollercoaster of emotions, but whatever it was, he found himself reclined, his eyes blinking slowly as he fought against sleep.

He jolted awake when Sawamura said, “Ok, take a look and let me know what you think.”

With eager anticipation, Kuroo leaned forward, only then noticing the jacket draped over him as it slid down, pooling on his thighs. It wasn’t his. He looked to Sawamura for an explanation, finding him twirling his pencil nervously in his fingers. “You, uh, fell asleep for a bit there. Didn’t want you to get cold or anything.” He coughed, picked up the sketch and passed it to Kuroo, his cheeks slightly pink and his eyes shy. 

It was a whole new side to Sawamura, one Kuroo would have preferred to keep staring at, but he’d imposed upon his time and goodwill long enough. He shifted his focus to the paper in his hand, a soft inhale of surprise drawing into his lungs. For being “just a sketch” it was gorgeous. He could sense movement in it, as though the vines were _alive,_ as though they could really move of their own free will to encircle his limb. The thought was far more erotic than it had any right to be but Kuroo quickly attributed that to the fact it would be Sawamura who was putting it on him. Right, no need to think too deeply into why a fucking _vine_ was turning him on. 

“It looks… hot, somehow.” Ok, could he have sounded any creepier?

Sawamura cleared his throat, setting the book down. “Great. Uh, let me get the—” he cut himself off, spinning on the stool and opening a draw. “Ah, here it is.” He pulled out another sheet of paper. “Transfer paper, I’ll trace the design on this and then we’ll press it on your skin. If you’re happy with it, we’ll go from there to put the ink on.” 

Kuroo nodded, but he didn’t miss the yawn as Sawamura turned again to pick up another tool. “Hey, uh, I really didn’t mean to ask for this. I mean, I want it, but I hadn’t meant to say, like, _now._ You’ve had a long day, we can do the rest of this tomorrow or whenever you have a free slot.”

Sawamura shrug. “We’ve come this far, might as well make sure you even still want it when you see it on your skin.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense. As long as you really don’t mind.”

“Kuroo, do I look like the kind of guy who will do something against his will?” 

Kuroo took that as an invitation to stare openly, gaze sliding from the expertly cut undercut to the thickly corded neck to the shoulders, biceps and forearms on full display in a tank top and down to the thick thighs he’d die to get around his head someday. 

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’ and grinning.

“So stop asking me if I’m sure. I don’t spend time doing things I don’t like,” Sawamura said with a laugh, returning his attention to the task of copying the image to the transfer paper. It was quiet again as he worked, Kuroo not wanting to disrupt his focus and so he took the opportunity to continue watching the object of his affection. Sawamura’s forearms flexed as he expertly guided the pen and page in tandem, the sketch from his pad coming to life even more in deep, black wet ink. 

When he was done, he stood, stretching high to the ceiling, a few pops and cracks sound as he lengthed his body from its previously curled position. Kuroo’s eyes never drifted, taking in the shift and play of those delicious muscles. Deftly, he wiped his mouth just in case he actually was drooling. Sawamura let his arms drop with a grunt, looking to Kuroo, startled expression flashing across his face when he found Kuroo still staring. Kuroo, for his part, finally managed not to drop his gaze, holding it steady for a few seconds during which he felt a shift of something intangible. The tattoo artist took a long deep breath and Kuroo grinned a bit sharp.

“You ok, there, Sawamura?” he asked. “You’re breathing kinda hard.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Sawamura replied, though he still looked a bit dazed, blinking as though to bring himself back into focus. He moved toward the curtain. “Ok, pants off. There’s a gown thing behind you on the pillow to cover up a bit.” And then he was gone, leaving Kuroo with burning cheeks once more. 

He let out a breath, but it did nothing to loosen the renewed tightness in his chest or the re-tied knots in his stomach. What was it that had transpired between them just then? Was it Kuroo’s imagination? No, it couldn’t be. He knew he’d seen something. 

“Kuroo, you decent?” Sawamura called from beyond the curtain. 

Kuroo jolted. “Uh, one sec!”

He unbuckled his belt, slid it off and unbuttoned his jeans, tugging them down only to then realize he’d not yet removed his shoes. He managed to remove them without falling over then pulled off his pants, pushing the crumpled pile to the side. He climbed back onto the table and was just about to pull the gown over his waist to cover his crotch when a totally stupid idea occurred to him.

Maybe he could turn the heat up a little.

So instead of covering up, he spread his legs, settling his heels on the stirrups and leaned against the elevated back of the table with his interlocked fingers cradling the back of his head. And if he tensed his biceps a bit, so what? With more confidence than he felt possessed of, he fixed a smirk on his face and said, “Ready when you are, big guy.”

Sawamura snorted as he walked through the curtain. “Who’re you callin’—“ he stopped, eyes widening ever so slightly and cheeks tinting a faint pink as he took Kuroo in. Gratification swelled through Kuroo from tip to tail when, as Sawamura closed his slackened jaw, he licked his lips ever so slightly. 

“Something wrong?” Kuroo asked, feigning innocence as best he could while half-naked in such a provocative pose. 

“Huh? No! Just, ah, usually people like to cover up.”

Kuroo shrugged. “It’s no biggie, you’re gonna be all up in here anyway, might as well enjoy the breeze. Got a little warm under your jacket.”

“Breeze. Right,” Sawamura deadpanned having recovered a little quicker than Kuroo would have preferred but he was still doing an inner victory dance at having cracked Sawamura’s shell just a little. 

Sawamura rolled his eyes when Kuroo still made no move to cover up, stepping to the stool and rolling it closer to the table. Kuroo only had a few seconds more to prepare before he sat down right between his legs. And what a sight he made there, hands clasped loosely in his lap as he leaned on thick thighs, his eyes fixed on Kuroo with no hint of embarrassment, just a steady, calm presence. 

Basically, the complete opposite of Kuroo, who immediately realized the huge flaw in his plan; namely Sawamura. 

Because having handsome, amazing smelling and unexpectedly sweet Sawamura between his legs was more than his libido could take. His mind immediately fell into the gutter and rolled around in the filth of the many other things Sawamura could be doing between his legs. Things that involved no tattooing paraphernalia and a lot less clothing on both their parts.

“Kuroo? You ok? You’re breathing kinda hard,” Sawamura asked mocking Kuroo’s earlier words. 

“Fine!” Kuroo squeaked, involuntarily dropping his arms to his lap. He cleared his throat, repeating in a lower voice, “I’m fine. Just a little nervous I guess.”

“That’s understandable. Most first-timers are,” Sawamura replied, professional tone back in place. He wheeled his stool back, his warmth retreating with him and Kuroo had to fight the urge to draw him back. 

“It’s still not too late to change your mind.”

“I’ve seen you angry, Sawamura, it’s not something I care to be on the receiving end of.”

Sawamura laughed. “I promise, I won’t get mad.” 

“Do I look like a guy who would do something like get a tattoo if he wasn’t sure he wanted it?” Kuroo asked, pushing aside the not so little voice in his head cackling at him. 

“Yes.”

“Rude,” Kuroo said around a smile. “But yes, I’m sure.” 

There was a pause as Sawamura hesitated to resume his position between Kuroo’s legs, almost as though his previous actions had caught up with him and propriety had reminded him Kuroo was, for all intents and purposes, a client. True as that might be, Kuroo didn’t want to lose… whatever it was that had begun to happen so he spread his legs a little wider. “I know you’ve got broad shoulders but if you need any more space than this I’ll be doing the splits.” 

“Can you?” Sawamura asked then snapped his jaw shut. 

“Never tried, first time for everything,” Kuroo replied with a grin. 

Sawamura huffed, pulled the stool close and _finally_ resumed his seat, picking up the tracing paper to lay against Kuroo’s thigh. He had to bite back a moan seeing him there again. It had been a terrible idea not to cover his crotch, he realized too late, when his cock stirred with interest. Kuroo tried to halt the inevitable, thinking of anything unsexy that he could but it was no use, especially when Sawamura’s palm landed on his exposed skin drawing goosebumps to its surface despite the heat of his hand. 

Though, when Sawamura laid the paper on Kuroo’s thigh and applied pressured with his fingertips, Kuroo squawked, kicking out at the unexpected ticklish sensation sending the tool table flying with a clatter to the floor along with the ink bottle which, of course, was still open.

Sawamura, understandably startled by the movement and noise, pushed back, the wheel of his stool catching against the fallen table sending him sprawling to the ground into the black puddle. 

Well, at least Kuroo’s boner was no longer a problem.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” he exclaimed, practically falling off the table to help Sawamura up. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he was concerned at the tremble of that strong body, his mind flying to worst-case scenarios, until Sawamura let out a loud guffaw and rolled to his back clutching his stomach, his eyes squeezed shut as he roared with laughter.

After a few seconds, Kuroo joined in, plopping on his butt, a shiver rolling through him as his nearly bare ass made contact with the cold concrete floor. They stayed like that for a few minutes, each catching their breath until they made eye contact, Kuroo snorted at the streak of black on Sawamura’s cheek and off they went again. 

It was a little time before either of them could speak.

“Kuroo,” Sawamura said, chuckles still rumbling around in his chest, “I think it best if you _don’t_ get a tattoo. At least not there.” He gestured vaguely at Kuroo’s leg.

“Probably a good idea,” Kuroo agreed. And then, without hesitation added, “By the way, I didn’t stick around tonight to ask you for a tattoo.”

Sawamura gave him a bemused grin. “I kinda figured with you being all dressed up. I may look like a ruffian but I’m not stupid.”

Kuroo grinned then his brow furrowed. “Wait, if you knew that, why did you agree to give me one?”

Sawamura laughed. “I honestly thought you would back out eventually.” He shrugged, his eyes falling to the floor. “But since you seemed determined I, uh,” he coughed, the tips of his ears turning red, “I decided if anyone was gonna ink you, I wanted it to be me.” 

“And why is that?” Kuroo asked, pulse-pounding.

“Because I like you, you nerd.” Sawamura’s eyes met his again. 

All his breath left Kuroo’s lungs. “Sawamura, please go out with me.”

Sawamura grinned, toying with his lip ring. “Finally,” he sighed, getting to his feet. He extended his hand to Kuroo and helped him up. He turned, grabbing a bottle and a cloth handing both to Kuroo. “Here, this’ll remove the blob on your leg so you can put your pants on. I’ll clean up this mess on the floor and me and we’ll get some food.” 

“And maybe I can walk you home? Meet the dogs?” Kuroo asked with hope in his voice. 

Sawamura laughed brightly. “Of course, they’ll want to meet you, I’ve told my babies all about you.”

 _Funny,_ Kuroo thought as Sawamura left to wash up, _I’ve told my babies all about you too._

And, thanks to a ridiculous series of unfortunate events, he’d have new stories to murmur to his plants the next morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you reader for giving my fic a chance. Kudos and comments are always most appreciated, so I’d loved to hear from you in words, emojis or gifs! 
> 
> Thanks to Stacy and Airy for beta!


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